


Powerless

by detritius



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Abuse of Authority, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, M/M, Misogyny, Painkillers, Physical Abuse, Stream of Consciousness, Underage Rape/Non-con, all the abuse really, emotional numbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 04:52:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10586823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detritius/pseuds/detritius
Summary: The worst part is, the bastard won’t stop talking.





	

**Author's Note:**

> What has two thumbs and just got Persona 5? This bitch. And apparently I'm marking the occasion by writing something really, really fucked up. Yes, there are other things I could be working on, but this just sort of happened, and I figured it'd be best to just do it as a quickwrite, get it out of my head, and then post it so there'll be no possible justification for going back to pick at it.
> 
> This is quite possibly the ugliest thing I've ever written, and that's saying something.

The worst part is, the bastard won’t stop talking.

He doesn’t feel much of what’s being done to him – the pain meds keep everything hazy and distant. Sometimes, his leg throbs dully in its cast, but that’s so much a part of his daily life now that it barely even registers. The rest of it drifts by him like loose papers on the wind. For a moment, he’ll be aware of an uncomfortable, stretched, _full_ feeling, like he desperately needs to take a shit, or the rough hand on the back of his head, mashing his face against the tabletop, or even the occasional, unwelcome spike of pleasure that makes his cock twitch and his balls draw up close to his body, but then it’ll pass. He can pretend it isn’t happening, that none of it is real.

He keeps his eyes shut and waits for it to be over.

But Kamoshida’s voice breaks into his consciousness. He isn’t barking orders the way he used to – it would be pointless, under the weight of his former coach, Ryuji can barely move -- but he still won’t shut up. He keeps saying shit like _this isn’t what I’m into, Sakamoto, you’re just a convenient fuckhole, Sakamoto_ , like the most compromising part of being balls-deep in a defenseless first year student is that it might seem kinda gay.

Ryuji knows he’s that deep, even without feeling it -- he can hear Kamoshida’s balls slapping against his ass as he thrusts.

Kamoshida grunts like an animal and mutters something about how all these schoolgirls do is complain, they’re convinced other girls will call them sluts if they give it up too easy, they think their husbands won’t love them if they find out you’ve had a go, they’re afraid you’ll get them pregnant even if you swear you’ll pull out in time, one excuse after another, it never fucking stops. Their short skirts and their young, tight bodies, all they do is tease, and how’s a red-blooded man in the prime of his life supposed to pretend he doesn’t see it? They’re so sensitive, so dramatic, a man can’t even look at them without them threatening to tell, self-centered, gossipy bitches, like anyone’d really give a fuck. After everything he’s done for this second-rate school, it’s the least they owe him. You know that, don’t you? You’re not gonna say anything. Even if you did, who would believe you? A troublemaking little punk, outta his head on drugs? They’d laugh in your face.

It all runs together.

_Just stop it_.

He doesn’t realize he said it out loud until Kamoshida laughs, rough and raucous. “Is that the best you can do, Sakamoto? That pathetic little squeak?” He’s panting right in Ryuji’s ear, inescapable. “Go on, let your voice out. No one’s gonna hear you. No one’s gonna help you. If someone walked in on us right now, it wouldn’t change a thing. A shitty little brat like you isn’t worth saving.”


End file.
